All is Lost
by MispeledIronicallyMisspelled
Summary: "You haven't won!" she cried, tears leaking unbidden down her cheeks, "you haven't won yet!" "You've lost, little girl," the blond man said silkily, casting his finger along her swollen cheek. "You've all lost." Dark one-shot.


**A/N: I'm honestly not sure how to identify this in genre. But it's a very dark one-shot, so I just went for angst.**

**I was listening to a really sad and eerie piece of music, entitled "All is Lost" and this just poured out of my fingers onto a Word Document as I did. It contains a sort of attempted sexual assault, but it doesn't go far.**

**Disclaimer: JKR owns these characters, I'm just playing with them.**

"Get up."

"No."

"_Get up._"

"No!"

"Stop trying to fight me, little girl."

"I'll never stop fighting you! Never!"

"_Get on your feet!"_

The slight girl with the tousled red hair staggered upright and slowly turned chocolate eyes full of loathing on the man before here. "You haven't won!" she cried, tears leaking unbidden down her cheeks, "you haven't won yet!"

"You've lost, little girl," the blond man said silkily, casting his finger along her swollen cheek. "You've all _lost." _His final word came in a snake-like hiss.

She shook her head furiously, choking on tears. "I'll never give in!"

The man leaned in close so his breath tickled her neck; she couldn't help but flinch. "You just did, my pretty."

"You're sick," the redhead whispered and pushed him, hard, in the chest.

"Sit back down," the man replied calmly.

"No."

"Oh, really?" He gave a short little laugh and then grasped her by the shoulders and shoved her down on the floor; she crumpled on weak legs and let out a squeal. "Stay down there," he said dangerously.

"Or what?"

"Or..." He bent down before her and her face suddenly clenched with fear as he idly ran his fingers through her hair and then against her neck. His cold hands lingered for a minute over her collarbone, eliciting a flinch and a choke from her, before they withdrew. Leaving his sentence hanging, he turned to go.

"You'll get what you deserve," the redhead croaked, a single tear sliding down her cheek, "you sick, sick man. Though I'm not sure you even are a man anymore."

A pregnant pause filled the air. And then the man turned slowly, and he was wearing a snide smile as he walked towards her. She backed up consciously against the wall.

"Well, well," he smirked, lowering himself to a crouch and licking his lips slightly, "it seems you really need to learn a lesson, my little pretty."

She began to shake her head, tears spilling down her face as she pressed herself against the wall, drawing in her knees, the chains connecting her wrists to the floor clanking.

The blond man merely leered. His icy fingers began to trail down her cheek, and then her neck. Leaning in, he replaced his hands with his mouth and the girl began to sob, trying desperately to wriggle out of his clutches. He laughed at her feeble efforts and began to toy with the shoulder of her robes –

"Leave her, Father."

The man moved slightly away from the girl and whipped around to face the boy in the doorway. "What did you say, Draco?" he said softly.

Draco hesitated. "I said – I said leave the girl."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because..." Draco's grey eyes flicked over his father's shoulder and met those of the redhead. She narrowed them and looked down, her red hair obscuring her face like a veil. "Because she's learned her lesson."

Draco's father considered him for a moment. And then he gave a short little snort and got to his feet. "My son won't always be around, little one," he said quietly, staring down at the cowering redhead, "I will be back tomorrow."

He left the room with a swishing of his long black cloak. For a minute, there was silence. And then Draco pushed himself off the door frame and moved towards the girl. She didn't look at him as he began to examine her as he had many times before.

His hands, warmer and defter than those of his father, pushed up the sleeves of her robes to reveal the criss-crossing patterns of scars and bruises which littered her arms. Holding his wand tip to them, he muttered an incantation and the broken skin healed. Carefully lifting up her matted locks, he healed the wounds on her neck and shoulders.

Even as he did, the girl grasped his left forearm and ran her thumb along the black ink which marred it. With a slight noise of disgust, she ran her nail along the Dark Mark and released him, looking away.

He said nothing as he wordlessly charmed away the tears and scars on her face. Her eyes met his; dull grey boring into glistening brown. And then he withdrew. She stared up at him, her expression wavering between defiance and pleading.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, and then he closed it and turned away. As he closed the door behind him, the small amount of light spilling into the chamber was cut off, and Ginny Weasley was alone in the dark.


End file.
